To The Moon
by darlingsybil
Summary: Modern AU. He thought he knew how to be a father to his daughter but now that he's a single parent, Tom Branson realises he doesn't have a clue. It'll take baby steps for them to feel like a family again but he's willing to do all that he can for her, especially with the help of a certain school nurse...
1. Chapter 1

"_Hello Mr Branson, this is the school nurse at St Patrick's Elementary. I hope you don't mind me using my mobile. My school phone's broken. I've got Millie …"_

The words repeat in his head whilst he taps his fingers nervously on the car wheel, waiting behind a pickup truck that is taking far too long to enter a roundabout.

It's only Millie's first day of school and already there are a plague of diseases and illnesses filling his head.

Vomiting. _Oh god, please don't tell me it was my cooking._

Measles. _Nah, she got the vaccine._

Broken arm. _I told her to be careful climbing trees._

Cancer. _Fucking hell, Tom. Get a grip of yourself._

He realises that maybe it would have been best if he had let the nurse finish talking before he had promptly replied, "I'm on my way," and hung up the phone. The traffic begins to move and he gets to the school in less than ten minutes, scurrying out of his car and up the marble stairs into the main office.

"Uh, excuse me." He waves at the young receptionist, who seems less than interested while she continues her conversation on the phone. He waves again but she gives him a tight smile, holding her finger up to control him.

On most days, he would have waited patiently, but today was not one of them.

"Excuse me," he says loudly. The students in the reception area turn their heads, curious by the crazy man, and the teachers passing through the area scowl at him.

The receptionist frowns. "I'll call you back, dear." She hangs up the phone, staring at him with an irked expression. "Yes?"

He clears his throat. "My name's Tom Branson. My daughter started today—"

"Well, it is the first day of school," the receptionist says in a saccharine voice.

"—and the nurse called me. I don't know where the nurse's infirmary is," he says, partly ashamed. The receptionist seems to notice and sighs.

"Down the hall, climb the second staircase you see, then turn left and it'll be the third door with the big cross on it," she explains and he leaves quickly, without so much as a second glance back at her.

He follows her directions and finds the infirmary easily—he thanks being a former chauffeur for his sense of navigation—and barges in, much to the shock of the nurse attending a student.

A male student who is not his daughter.

"Uh," Tom mumbles, glancing around but there's no sign of his daughter. "Um, I'm Tom Branson. You-you called?"

He half expects the nurse to yell at him for interrupting, but instead is shocked when she offers him a kind smile. "How about you wait in my office? And I'll be with you soon, Mr. Branson."

Tom nods and heads into the room that she points to, feeling like a naughty student heading to the principal's office.

He waits there for five minutes, surveying the room he's in. It's pristine with charts and posters hanging on the walls and peers over to glance at a frame standing on the desk. Inside is a picture of the nurse with another man, although there's something irritating about the man's face that Tom can't seem to put his finger on.

"Snooping, Mr Branson?"

Tom jerks and turns to find the nurse entering the room, her smile never leaving her face as she takes a seat.

"Uh-I wasn't—"

"It's alright." She's younger than he expected and certainly more attractive than the school nurses he had. "You know, Mr Branson. You really didn't need to come down here."

Tom stammers, "But you called?"

She tilts her head slightly. "I did but it was only to ask about Amelia's medical history. I just needed to know if she had her yearly shots already."

He blinks repeatedly, taken back by the simple question. "Oh."

"I take it Amelia is your first child?" the nurse asks politely and he nods. "It's alright. It's normal for parents to be worried about their children, especially when they're young. I did try calling your wife's number but it was disconnected?" She notices that he stiffens at the mention of the word 'wife'.

"I can imagine it would be," he says and she knows better than to press at the topic.

"Well, while you're here, I could use your help in filing out the rest of Amelia's medical details. We've got most of them down but there are still a couple of blanks, Mr. Branson."

"Please, call me Tom. I have to admit, Mill-uh, Amelia's mother was the one who took care of the medical details. I've-uh, been overseas for the last year." He expects to see scorn in the nurse's eyes. After all, what kind of father doesn't know his own child's medical state? But instead, the nurse continues to offer him a sympathetic smile.

"That's no problem. I can give you a list of shots that are coming up for the kindergarten students later in the year and you can ask your family doctor if Amelia has taken them. Just send a copy of the results to the school board when you can." She quickly scribbles on a piece of paper and hands it to him.

He takes it and slips it into his jacket pocket. "Thank you—uh."

"Nurse Crawley," she answers. "But you can call me Sybil."

* * *

When he leaves the infirmary, there's still an hour until the end of school and so he heads to the nearest grocery store to do the shopping. It surprises him how much he had panicked. Back in Egypt, he was calm and collected under the constant political pressure, but here he's a mess. He pushes the trolley into the cereal section searching for the Coco Pops until he comes to an empty shelf.

_Fuck. _

He groans, unsure what to do. She had specifically asked for it on their way to school that morning, no doubt sick of the pancakes he's been making.

He feels his phone vibrate and he pulls it out, not surprised by who's calling.

"So, the verdict?" Thomas asks straight away.

Tom sighs. "There was nothing wrong. It was just about medical details."

"You feeling like an idiot for running out of work?"

"Yep."

"I wouldn't worry too much. Millie is a smart kid. At least, she can take care of herself. You, on the other hand."

"Not funny, Thomas."

"Listen, why don't you just take another week off of work? Get adjusted to being a single dad. It's been a slow news week anyway."

"Is Thomas Barrow being kind?" Tom jokes.

"Only for today. Tomorrow I'm back to being a jerk."

"Well, I don't know if I've said it but thanks for all the help—"

"Are you being sentimental?"

"I was trying to be."

"I thought I was the gay one."

"Shut up," Tom says. "Oh hey, are you still dropping by later?"

"Yeah … why? Are you sick of me already?"

"I've been sick of you since uni. Do you reckon you could buy some Coco-Pops before you come here?"

"What am I? Your servant?" Thomas scoffs.

"Oh come on. It's for your goddaughter. I choose you specifically to be her godparent, remember?. I choose _you_ over all my brothers. I even went _against_ my religion. You owe me Coco Pops."

"That's emotional blackmail, you fucker."

"So, you'll buy them?" Tom repeats eagerly.

"Chrissake." Thomas hangs up but Tom knows that his best friend won't let him down.

When he arrives back at the school, his car filled with groceries, he heads inside and goes straight to the kindergarten room where anxious parents have already gathered. He peeks into one of the windows and can see the children inside, sitting cross-legged on the ground as they listen to their teacher.

Immediately, he spots her. She sits towards the back of the group, her blue eyes staring straight ahead. Her hairclip is hanging off of her curls rather than holding them back and her hands are speckled with red paint.

The bell rings and the teacher calls out to them to gather their things and assemble in a line so that their parents can collect them. Most of the children do as they're told and follow the instructions, lining up by the door.

Only Millie takes her time. He watches while she slowly packs her things, holding each of the items for a good ten seconds until they disappear into her bag: first, her pencil case, then her water bottle and next her lunchbox. She picks up her cardigan hanging from the back of her chair and even though, the weather is warm, she puts it on, fumbling with the buttons until deciding to leave it open.

When she leaves the classroom, he sneaks up from behind her and taps her on the shoulder.

"Da," she exclaims and offers him a smile. "I didn't know you were gonna pick me."

"Of course, I was. It's your first day. I wouldn't have missed it." He holds out his hand and she slowly slips hers into his, looking down at the ground as they leave the school.

"So," he asks, "how was your first day?"

Millie coughs and then shrugs her shoulders. "It was okay. I drew pictures."

"Ah, that sounds like fun. How about you show me and we can hang them on the fridge?"

She shakes her head. "Nu-uh. They're for Ma."

It feels as if he's been sliced by a dagger and even though, his ego has taken a hit, he forces a smile onto his face. "Well, how about you keep them safe then? Just for now at least?"

She seems satisfied by the answer and keeps silent until they get into the car and she notices the groceries in the back seat.

"Did you get my Coco Pops?" she asks excitedly, pushing her seatbelt out of the way so she can get a look at the plastic bags.

"Uncle Thomas is bringing them to our house tonight," Tom replies and her face lights up. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous. After all, Thomas has seen more of her than he has in the last year but there's still a part of him that wishes he were the one making her happy.

"I like it when Uncle Thomas brings me presents," Millie says.

Tom sighs. "Well, you can thank him when he comes over." _Even though it was my idea_.

He starts the engine and switches the radio station to Millie's favourite. While they drive home, he loses himself in his thoughts, wondering if he's cut out for this, if he can really be a single parent to a growing little girl. In the last month, his whole world has been turned upside down and even though he's scared shitless, while her high-pitched voice sings along to the music, he can't help but smile at the sound. He starts to sing along and the rest of the car ride is filled with them being out of tune. When they arrive home, she says to him with a giggle, "You're silly, Da."

He watches as she unbuckles her seatbelt and scurries out of the car. As far as he's concerned, Amelia Grace Branson is his world and he'll do anything he can to prove it to her.

* * *

AN: As always a BIG THANK YOU to scarletcourt for beta'ng. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you guys think. Night everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

It's half past eleven when Sybil wakes up to her mobile ringing. Through half-closed eyes, she first turns to her side only to find an empty space on their bed.

"Must be Larry," she mumbles, picking up her phone. "Mmm, babe, where are you?"

"Uh-hello, Nurse Crawley … Sybil?"

Her eyes open wide, shocked to hear the unfamiliar voice. "Hello? Um, yes. This is she. Who is this?"

"It's Tom Branson. We met earlier," he says quickly, his voice anxious.

Tom.

"Oh yes, I remember," she pauses. "How'd you get my number?"

"Uh, you called my number today? Shit, I'm sorry — I shouldn't have called. I just — I would've driven to the hospital but a friend came over and we had some beers and even though I'm sober, I didn't want to risk it—"

"Oh..."

"And so I tried calling the emergency room just then but all I got was a busy ring tone and then I saw your number on my phone—"

"Mr. Branson."

"And I know it was a long shot but Millie's burning up and I know I panic when it comes to her, but dear Lord, the last thing I want is to screw her up—"

"Tom."

"Fuck. I'm sorry, did I wake you up? Shit!"

"Tom!"

He falls silent and she sits up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. "Listen, have you taken her temperature?"

"Yeah. 39 degrees," he stammers. "That's not right, is it?"

Sybil shifts in her bed and bits her lip. "It's not ideal. Is she sweating at all?"

"Yes."

"That's good. It means that the fever is fighting whatever infection she has. First, you need to make sure she's cool and hydrated. If she complains of pains, give her some medicine."

"You mean aspirin?"

"No!" she exclaims, but then regains herself. "Definitely not aspirin. Ibuprofen or Tylenol."

"I-bubba-what?"

Sybil cringes. She remembers the man earlier today in her office and how anxious he had been. Even though, she doesn't know the details, she can tell he's just been thrust into the role of primary caregiver. If anything, she feels for him, knowing that he obviously cares a great deal for his daughter.

"Heaven help me," he says weakly and her heart swells.

She glances at the bedside clock and even though she has a long day tomorrow, an idea formulates in her head. It's crazy and absurd, after all, she has just met the man, but the nurse in her is wide-awake and she doubts she'll be able to get any sleep once she hangs up.

"Listen, Tom. Where do you live?"

He stammers, "Uh, the Crestview Apartments on Brown Street."

Brown Street. She closes her eyes and tries to imagine the route there.

"Hmm, near the cinemas?"

"Yeah."

"That's not too far from my house. "She climbs out of bed and begins looking around for a jacket to hide her pyjamas. "I should be there in ten minutes."

"Wait…what?" he exclaims. "Shit. I'm sorry, Mill." His voice goes softer. "No, I can't have you do that."

"It's no problem. It'll just be a quick visit to make sure it doesn't get serious."

"But you don't even know us?" Tom questions, surprised that a person could be so kind. "You haven't even met her."

"Well, I'll have to meet her one day. It might as well be tonight," Sybil replies. She heads out into the kitchen and grabs two bottles of medicine and a medicine cup from the fridge. "I'm just about to head out now. What apartment are you?"

"Uh, 4C."

"I'll see you soon then," and she hangs up before he can say _another_ word.

* * *

Tom leaves Millie's room and stands in the living room, his arms on his hips while he surveys the mess. There are newspapers spread over the table and dirty plates in the sink. Millie's school bag lies next to the couch, half open and its contents about to spill out. He should clean. He really should but half of him is exhausted and the other half is still stunned that a woman he just met is on her way to their house.

While he decides to at least get the dishes done, he replays the entire night in his head, trying to think back of any signs that Millie was feeling unwell.

* * *

"_What do you say, Mill?" Tom says while Millie hugs the cereal box._

"_Thank you, Uncle Thomas."_

_Thomas kneels down and taps Millie on the nose. "That's all right, sweetie. Anything for you."_

_Millie grins. "Can you get me a pony?"_

"_Yeah, Uncle Thomas," Tom banters. "Where's her pony?"_

"_Didn't your Daddy tell you? He's getting you one for your birthday," Thomas replied, his eyebrows raised while he watched his best friend's face go white. Millie shrieked and her mouth went wide._

"_Really?" she gasps, turning to her father. "Really really?"_

"_Yeah, Dad." Thomas grins as he shakes his hands. "Really?"_

_Tom glares at him, his face a clear 'fuck you' and he squares his jaw. "Uh, we'll see. Why don't you play in your room while I have a friendly talk with your uncle."_

_Millie bounces to her room, taking the box with her._

"_You realise you're going to have to buy her a pony now," Tom states._

_Thomas stands up and laughs. "Oh come on, she'll forget about it." _

"_Trust me, she won't. She's wanted one since she was three."_

_When Thomas leaves a couple hours later, Tom heads inside Millie's room to check up on her. She's snuggled under her covers, Bruno the stuffed monkey by her side and he's careful not to wake her up when he sits down next to her. _

_He moves to brush the hair from her face, but as his fingers touch her skin, he can feel her burning up._

* * *

The buzzer rings and Tom walks over to the intercom, shaking dry his wet hands.

"Hello," he says when he speaks into the box, although he knows already who's downstairs in the shivering cold.

"It's me. Sybil."

"Come right up."

He presses the button for a couple of seconds and then waits anxiously by the door. He shouldn't be nervous. Of course not. She's just the school nurse, after all. But for some reason, his heart is beating fast and he's not sure whether it's because he's worried about Millie or what an incompetent father Sybil must think he is.

There's a knock at the door and he unbolts the lock, opening the door. She's dressed in a thick, black coat with Ugg boots on her feet. Her hair is tied in a messy bun and yet still, there's a smile gracing her face.

His heart starts beating faster for some reason.

"Hi," she says. "I bring gifts." She pulls out the medicine bottles from her handbag and waves them in the air.

"Dear lord, you are an angel," Tom says and he bites his tongue when she blushes. "Um, come in."

He stands aside, letting her enter and he notices that she gives his tiny apartment a quick onceover.

"This is a nice place you have," she comments, standing awkwardly next to the dining table.

Tom chuckles. "You can say it's a mess. I don't mind."

Her gaze trails to a stack of boxes in the corner of the room. "Did you just move in here?"

"Uh, no," Tom replies. He feels compelled to lie. After all, he barely even knows this woman but something in wants to be honest with her and he can't figure out _why_ that is. "They're actually my wife's things."

Silence falls between them and Tom mentally kicks himself for bringing that up.

Sybil shifts in her spot, fiddling with the straps of her bag and Tom rubs the back of his neck, unsure what to say.

Finally, Sybil asks, "Can I see Millie?" and Tom promptly nods, his head moving faster than a jackhammer.

He leads the way and opens Millie's bedroom door slowly, peering in as he whispers, "Mills, you awake?"

A noise comes from her bed and both he and Sybil enter the room. He takes a seat on the bed, draping his arm over Millie's body.

"Da, I'm thirsty," Millie whimpers. She opens her eyes and gasps when she sees Sybil crouching on the ground.

"Hey, it's okay, Mill. This is Sybil," Tom says softly while Millie clutches at her covers. "She's a nurse. You'll actually see her at your school."

"Well, hopefully not," Sybil chuckles. She moves in closer and waves. "Hello Millie. I heard you weren't feeling well."

Millie slowly nods.

"Is it alright if I feel your forehead?" Sybil asks, her voice gentle. "My fingers might be a bit cold, though."

Millie looks up at her father, hesitant by the request but when Tom nods his head, so does Millie.

Sybil presses her the back of her hand to Millie's forehead and can feel the young girl shivering instantly.

"Hmm, you're still a bit hot," Sybil states. "Do you feel like throwing up?"

"No," Millie croaks. She turns to her father and tugs at his shirt. "I want Ma."

Sybil feels her heart break when she sees Tom's face shattered at the request. Millie begins to cough and Tom's head snaps towards Sybil, the worry evident in his blue eyes.

"How about Daddy and I get you some water?" Sybil says, hoping to diffuse the situation, and Millie smiles, snuggling back into her bed when the adults leave her.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Tom questions, as he trails behind her in his own house. She nods and puts her bag down on the kitchen counter, pulling out a medicine bottle and pouring the liquid into the cup.

"As I said, fevers are a common part of growing up. It's good a sign that she's not vomiting."

Tom nods, listening as he fills a mug with water. "Oh, thank God. If something had happened to her, I'd never forgive myself."

"Don't beat yourself up. It's always hard being a single parent." The words leave her mouth before she has the time to process them and she winces immediately. "Shit – I'm sorry, I didn't – "

Tom cocks his head in her direction and he lets out a sigh, "You're right with that. It's not what I expected"

She leans over and places a hand on his, much to his surprise. "From what I can tell, you're a good father."

God, that's what he's always wanted to hear and even though, it's not from a friend or someone close to him, he finds the words even more touching coming from a stranger. Their eyes meet and he realises that her eyes are bright blue, like the colour of Millie's favourite summer dress. She jolts suddenly, aware that her hand is still on his and pulls it back, pretending to flick away a strand of her hair.

"Uh, we should go back to Millie," she says.

"Yeah," he replies. She walks back to Millie's room and once she's inside, he glances at his hand before shaking his head vigorously, dispelling any thoughts whatsoever.

When he returns to Millie's room, Sybil is crouching once more on the ground and Millie is sitting up, hugging Bruno.

"Here you go, Mills." Tom hands her the glass of water and she begins to sip from it. "You need to take some medicine too, okay?"

Millie shakes her head

"Come on, Mills. Please."

Millie digs her face into Bruno as Sybil and Tom share a look.

"Millie," Sybil says, "This medicine will help you get better." She holds up the cup and Millie raises her head, looking intently at them while Tom sits down next to her, rubbing her back with his fingers.

Sybil hands Millie the cup and asks, "What's your favourite thing to do?"

Millie shrugs her shoulders. "I like drawing but I'm not that good."

"I'll tell you what medicine does, Millie? This is a secret so you have to promise me you won't tell anyone," Sybil says in a hushed tone and Tom is surprised to find his daughter nodding her head vigorously, listening intently.

"Well," Sybil begins as Millie leans in. "The magic of medicine is that the more you don't like it, the better you get at your favourite thing. When I was younger, I got really sick once and my mama made me drink medicine. You want to know what happened?"

"Yeah," Millie whispered excitedly.

"The medicine made me feel much better and I was able to get back to my favourite thing in the whole wide world: ballet. I was able to dance all day because the medicine helped me. Even now, I'm able to do ballet," Sybil said proudly. "Do you want to see?"

"Uh-huh!" Millie exclaims and Sybil stands up, holding her body straight. She spreads her arms out to her side and slowly, she rises up until she's standing on her tiptoes. She lasts for ten seconds until she goes back down to the ground, taking a bow.

Tom starts cheering and Millie has mouth open wide, staring at Sybil with wide eyes.

"See, Millie, if you drink it – " Sybil doesn't even have the chance to finish her sentence as Millie immediately drinks the medicine in a gulp, scrunching her face and sticking her tongue out afterwards.

"How was it?" Tom chuckles.

"Yucky," Millie answers.

"How about we take your temperature now?" Sybil offers and Millie raises her arm. She takes the temperature from the bedside table and hands it to Tom who slips it underneath Millie's underarm. "Now, we just have to wait and see how you are. You don't mind if I make a call. My fiancée must be wondering where I am," she realises, imagining Larry coming home to an empty house.

"Oh," Tom says, caught off guard. "I mean, yeah, go ahead. We're alright here, aren't we, Mill?"

"Yep."

Sybil heads back to the kitchen and pulls her phone out of her bag but to her surprise there are no missed calls. She dials Larry's phone and glances around the room as she waits for him to pick up. There are photos on the fridge of Millie as a baby and on one particular, half the image is covered by a large smiley face magnet. Her curiosity gets the better of her and she pulls the image out to find a blonde woman smiling beside Millie. She assumes that the woman is Millie's mother as she can certainly see some of the woman in Millie but there's no doubt that Tom's features are prominent on the little girl. Where the woman's face is sharp and angular, Millie's is round and her cheeks are full. The only clear feature she inherited was her mother's blonde hair.

"Hello?" says a sleepy voice from the other line.

"Larry, are you home?" Sybil says, fixing the photo back to how it looked before.

"M-hm."

Sybil furrows her eyebrows. "Oh, well, I just popped out. You must've noticed I wasn't there."

"That's fine," Larry mumbles. "Hey Syb, I'm really tired so I'm going go back to sleep. You don't need to wake me up when you get home. Cya, babe." He hangs up before Sybil has the chance to say 'Goodnight' and she looks down at her phone, partially annoyed.

"Everything alright with the fiancée?" Tom asks as moves past her and places the empty glasses in the sink.

"Oh yes," Sybil says with a forced smile. "Everything's fine." She watches as he leans against the sink, his sleeves rolled to his elbows revealing his muscular forearms.

_No, Sybil. What are you doing_? "Um," she stammers, "how was her temperature?"

Tom smiles. "38.9. Went down a tiny bit since I last checked it but I guess we'll have to wait till later to see if the medicine worked."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Sybil replies. She certainly _isn't_ taking notice of the way the muscle moves in shirt when he reaches up to scratch his jaw. No, certainly not. "Um, so keep an eye out on Millie's temperature. Check it again in four hours and see how it is. If it spikes, then give her the other medicine but just make sure that you follow the instructions on the back, since the two medications have different mechanisms when brining a fever down."

"Thank you again for coming over and helping," Tom says genuinely. "Who would have thought that today would turn out like this?"

"Well, at least I was able to meet Millie. I can keep an eye out for her at school, if you want and maybe that way, you won't be worrying wherever you are," Sybil offers, her tone slightly cheeky.

"If you could, but I'm sure you must have all the other children to worry about."

Sybil tilts her head. "True but I can multi-task. I am a woman, after all."

"I certainly don't doubt that," Tom replies and once again, she can feel her cheeks go red.

"Um, well, I better go." Sybil grabs her handbag from the counter. She slowly heads to the door with Tom following her.

"Are you sure? Have some food at least. You'd be surprised. We actually have some today," Tom jokes. "Not that I starve Millie or anything. Oh God, no."

Sybil pauses by the door and reaches out to touch Tom's arm. "I got what you meant. It's alright." _Oh, he is muscular. Dammit, Sybil, let go. _She does swiftly, opening the front door and moving outside to stand in the hallway.

"I say let Millie stay at home tomorrow. Nurse's orders," Sybil suggests and Tom salutes.

"Whatever you say, m'am," he replies. "I'm sure Millie won't mind at all anyway. She'll probably spend the day drawing tomorrow now that she's got superpowers." He grins.

"I'm surprised I could even do that pointe. It's been years since I've done ballet," Sybil says. She gives him a kind smile and tugs at her bag. "You have a good night, Tom."

"You too," he says and he watches while she walks away and turns the corner, disappearing from his sight.

He closes the door and leans against it, letting a sigh. It's been rough night, that's for sure and he knows that if Sybil hadn't come along, he would've probably lost his head. Admittedly, he was surprised she even came but was definitely grateful that she did.

While he heads backs to Millie's room, he wonders why he did call her. True, he has heaps of friends but the realization hits him when he stands in Millie's doorway.

Embarrassment. That's what he feels. He doesn't needs people judging him on his parenting skills in addition to their pity. Ever since Edna left, they had all been treading on eggshells around him, treating him as though he were some china doll dangling off a shelf.

He had thought about calling his mother, but the last thing he wants is to worry her especially since she only returned to Ireland earlier in the week.

"You and Millie should be in Ireland. Come with me, Tommy" she had begged him right before she left but he had refused. His wife may have run away but he certainly wasn't going to.

Millie is once again fast asleep. She's snoring lightly and he watches her for a couple more minutes, looking out for any signs of distress. He shuts the door and takes only two steps before he enters her bedroom once more and takes a seat on the floor next to her bed, watching her as she sleeps.

He remembers when she was a baby and the nights he used to stay up with her, cradling her back to sleep. It seems odd to think that that was five years ago since he can still picture it clearly in his head.

He makes a mental note to bring her back to his room later so he can keep an eye on her, but it isn't long after that Tom falls asleep, his body crushing the box of Coco Pops by the bed and his head on the mattress, only inches away from his daughter.

* * *

**AN: **With this chapter, **scarletcourt** deserves a massive applause since she turned it into something much better than my rough drafts so, THANK YOU dear!Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! I'd be happy to know what you guys think :) Goodnight y'all!


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